


I'll Cry at the Funeral

by Aggressivelyaverage21



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29185635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aggressivelyaverage21/pseuds/Aggressivelyaverage21
Summary: A walk through all the loss Sara's suffered over the years (at least the major ones) and how it's affected her. This time though, she finally doesn't lose someone and Ava's there to help."Robert. Moirah. Tommy. Ivo. Oliver or so she thought. Countless League companions. That Carter guy. Herself. Sara Lance was no stranger to death but damn it if it didn’t crush her each time they were acquainted."Follows Cannon. Posted on Tumblr. *written prior to the last season of Arrow*
Relationships: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	I'll Cry at the Funeral

Robert. Moirah. Tommy. Ivo. Oliver, or so she thought. Countless League companions. That Carter guy. Herself. Sara Lance was no stranger to death but damn it, if it didn’t crush her each time they were acquainted. 

**1\. D. Laurel Lance**

There was no funeral this time. Sara didn’t even really know what a funeral was like anymore. The league didn’t really have them. Death had been such a part of her, but funerals never really had. Hell, she had even had her own funeral, had needed at least a couple by now, but now even with her close acquaintance with death… This was too much. 

Laurel. 

Laurel Lance. 

Dead. 

She had come back from all that. All that bullshit chasing a physco immortal through history. A mission that Laurel had encouraged her to go on. She had come back looking to tell her sister about all the good she’d done. That though there were hiccups that she and her team had succeeded. And she had found a family all on her own that she was getting through the bloodlust. That she was doing  _ better. _

God, she had been so excited to come back and get Laurel in one of those hugs only her sister could really give. Instead… Instead, she found her father standing with his hands planted on the control center in the “arrow cave.” A look of pain on his face until he had seen “his baby.” 

His baby girl. Sara really didn’t know how, after everything, he could still see her like that. In all the relief that had flooded her father’s expression, it immediately returned to pain as she asked for her older sister. 

Those words “I’m sorry, Sara” would be seared in her mind forever. And she knew. 

Laurel Lance. 

Dead. 

Laying in a grave next to where Sara had been for a year. Where she still should be. Alone. Without the company of her sister. 

Dead. 

Not Laurel. Not for a long time. 

But here they were. Laurel was gone. She was here. 

She was supposed to come back to just about the moment she left. Rip had lied to her. That wasn’t important right now, though. There wasn’t going to be a funeral to cry at. That had happened. Months ago. 

So she broke. Sara Lance broke, and she cried. She sobbed in her father’s arms. She screamed at Rip. She hit and lashed out and almost killed the man. She wanted to. But that wasn’t her; it couldn’t be her anymore. 

She had to be better. 

For Laurel. 

**2\. Leonard Snart**

He had been there when Laurel… God, Sara couldn’t even think about it right now. They had finally made it to the freakin time council or whatever the hell they were. Finally gotten past Mik/Chronos or whatever that bull shit was now. They had finally gotten where they needed to be, and for what? One of them to sacrifice themselves? And it had to be Leonard. 

The one who had some honor. Related to her more than anyone else on the team. The one who would play cards with her or just talk in that drawn-out way of his till she’d start to doze off. The one who would fold the cards back together in that way of his. The one who would lay a blanket over her as she was hardly awake and press comforting lips to her forehead. It was never romantically. It didn’t feel like that at least; it was more like he was just there. 

Sara had never really let herself entertain the idea before. It was Lenard. No way. They were teammates, not that that stopped other people, but it was messy, and Sara was so over messy until he shoved his arm into that stupid machine and gave himself up to save time and free will itself. 

Sara wasn’t sure if they were right for each other, but that didn’t mean hearing that explosion didn’t rip her heart right out of her chest. She’d lost Laurel, and now she’d just lost the only person who made her feel like life could be ok again. Then people had the audacity to talk about how horrible he was when he might have been the best of all the legends. Ray included. 

There wasn’t a funeral for him either. There wasn’t a body, and honestly, who would have gone but the legends? Sara made sure she told Lisa, though. She made sure she knew the hero her brother had become. Had always been, really. 

And Lisa was pissed. She was so pissed that her brother was such a fucking idiot. Sara was a little pissed too. It could have been her. It should have been her. She could have done it. She’d already died once. She was just living on literal stolen time. Not Lenard. 

Then she had kissed him. And yeah, maybe it was selfish of her.. Or maybe it was what he needed in those final moments. She really couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both. 

She had waited for a while, but she was just so broken, and he was so patient. At least… at least he got to know she cared in those final moments. Sara wondered, though, if maybe he had always known. 

When all the Legends were away, and she had a night to herself, she puts his beer up by a photo of him, leaning on a door frame with that goddamn smirk. So when she falls asleep with a beer across the table from her on the table as she drank herself to sleep, there was no one to lay her down and drape a blanket over her. 

And damn it, she was going to miss him. 

**3\. Martin Stein**

Things felt weird. The Waverider without Martin was weird, and it had only been a few minutes. The professor laying there dead. Shot. The professor separating himself with Jax. Taking his last breaths…

His body was still here, but he was gone. 

Martin Stein. 

Dead. 

Sara needed to figure out how to get his body back to his family. His daughter. His wife. How to get her Legends closure. That would all have to come after this was all over, though. She just couldn’t figure out what the best way to take care of this was. It was her job now, right? She was the captain. The captain had to make these decisions. 

Oliver looks at her in that gentle way of calling her from her thoughts. Those understanding eyes. Despite his usual stony demeanor Sara always knew he was a softie. He always had been. “How you holding up?” Except right now, Sara really didn’t need that look. She needed to keep moving, and she needed Oliver not to do his Ollie thing and make this more difficult than it already was. 

Instead of taking her old friend’s comfort, she tries to brush past his shoulder, turning her grief cold with a deep breath. Cold was easy. Cold helped her stay solid. “I’ll cry at the funeral,” Sara responds as she tries to hurry down the p-way of the Waverider, wanting absolutely nothing to do with all this emotional bull shit- she had a job to do. They all had a job to do. Well… not Martin… not anymore. Never again. 

“Sara -” He starts as he grabs her upper arm. He really should know better than to do that. If it weren’t Oliver, he’d have been down a hand to match his sister’s father. But this was Oliver, and he was just checking on her. 

No matter how hard she had grown. No matter how good at  _ things _ \-  _ killing things -  _ she had grown, Oliver still would always see her as she was before their lives all changed. Not that he ever doubted her competency or her ability to care for herself physically; he just couldn’t really get through the part where she had become darker than even him. 

Dying will do that to you. 

But when she gives him an understanding, thankful, faint smile for just a moment, she means it when she says, “I’m fine.” For the time being, at least. Or at least relatively. She isn’t breaking. She knows what that feels like. She’s in a good place. 

Well, not a  _ good  _ place but maybe a good headspace would be a better way to put it. She knew she’d be fine to keep leading her team, to take care of this threat. She would be just fine, and she could wait till it was all over to give the doctor the thought he deserved from her. 

She just didn’t know if it all being over was a reference to their current Nazi nightmare or the thing with Mallus. Sara suspected it was probably the latter. 

The funeral rolled around quicker than she had anticipated. That final fight with those crazy assholes from Earth X was cathartic in a way. She could focus in the moment. She had to. There was nothing else. There was trading blows with those guys in black. There was sneaking peeks to check on her team, her whole team, to make sure they were good. But for the most part, it was just the fight, and she  _ loved _ the fight, so she let it consume her for the time being. 

Now out in the damp, chilly air, she watched her feet as mud formed around where she allowed her weight to be pressed down into the slightly squishy grass. Her black bootie-heel-things sinking just a little bit each step she took toward the new stone. Because of course, of course it was raining. 

She walked up to the group surrounding the fresh hole in the ground. The team. His family. Those who he had fought with. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had continued with all his science stuff instead of this FIRESTORM project, how many people would have been there? The whole physics community? Colleagues who didn’t even really know or like him? It was a comfort to know that even if that life probably wouldn’t have ended this way, at least everyone here really cared for him. There would be no obligatory grieving here, and for that, the Captain was thankful. 

She didn’t really listen to Jax’s words as she stood between Ray and Lilly, the daughter he would never have had if it wasn’t for this little adventure of theirs. She tried to listen; she really did, but as far as public speaking went, Jax wasn’t really that good at it, and she just  _ couldn’t.  _ Her mind was a million other places. A million different timelines, a million different missions. 

Because right now, she could be a little distracted. She had time to let her mind wander, to remember. She wouldn’t as soon as they got back to the ship where she had to be locked on and ready to go for her team--for time itself. It was nice to breathe a second to stand there quiet but strong for her team and Martin’s family, but that time was coming to a close with each step forward of a friend to drop a shovelful of dirt on that wooden box. 

So when Sara nearly whispers down to the cedar, “thank you for believing in me,” she means it. She would never have been able to take this step and take on being captain if he hadn’t pushed her into it in that nudging way he had. And though she had her dad, and she loved her dad more than anything, having Martin around as she tried to figure out what it meant to be alive again… it helped. It helped more than he would have even known. And he had become an uncle type character for her just when she needed it. 

She walked back to the Waverider, thankful to get to say goodby to Alex. She really hoped everything worked out for the woman. She seemed pretty cool. Maybe things would have been different if they weren’t from two different worlds, and Sara wasn’t a time traveler. Who knows. At least it was fun while it lasted. 

Back on the ship, they almost immediately get called back into the field, the anachronism alarm going off.  _ Fuck. _ Can’t her team just have five damn minutes to grieve? Just five. That’s it. They needed that. Sara could see they needed that. 

“Alright, I know we just lost Martin. But I want you to take those feelings and put them in a box. Then I want you to close that box. Then I want you to lock that box.” It had worked for her, and honest to god, she didn’t know how else to help her team get through this and keep doing what they needed to because apparently, time waited for no man—especially not dead ones. 

She takes a moment to breathe over the control station in the center of  _ her  _ bridge. “That’s healthy,” And she’s not quite sure who said it but was huffed with a certain degree of sarcasm that only a legend could muster. 

“Maybe not. But we’ve got a job to do.” 

And when later, she asserted that “Kicking ass is how we heal.” She meant it, she did, but she was hoping that the more she said it, the more it would become true. The more it would feel true. They were going to kick ass and move on because they had to. She had to. 

So when the Waverider notifies her of a call from one Ava Sharpe, Sara almost doesn't answer. She really can’t deal with that goody-two-shoes self-righteous woman and her judgment right now. Not her judgment for Sara being a terrible captain who can’t even take care of her own team. It was her job to bring them all back, after all. 

That’s not what happens, though. With a duck of her head, one that Sara finds infuriatingly adorable, and a quick tuck of hair behind her air, the agent’s gaze softens along with her voice, “but I also heard about Martin Stein, and I’m calling to express my condolences.” 

“Well, thank you,” Sara says, bristling. If she’d been expecting the kind words from the other woman… if she hadn’t been taken so off guard, maybe then it would have been easier to keep her emotions in check. Instead, she goes to what she knows, cold. “But my team and I… we have it under control.” 

She didn’t want to be like that with Ava. Not after her kindness. It was just instinct. She felt like she needed some separation from it, but she also wanted nothing more than actually to grieve the man. So with a deep sigh, she uncrosses her arms from her chest where they had taken a defensive position “to be honest, my team is still pretty raw from losing Stein. We could use outside perspective.” 

The fact is… Sara doesn’t just mean her team. She is still raw too. She just can’t afford to let anyone know that. She has to be the backbone. She has to be the one to keep them moving forward. Her team needs it. The world needs it. Ava knows. Of course she knows. She and Sara never see eye to eye on anything, but they understand each other like no one else really does, and maybe that’s why it is so easy for them to get under each other's skin. Knowing that the captain would just ignore her if she offered more comfort, Ava decides to stick to their usual dynamic. “Are you asking for my help?” She smiles as though she were amused at the prospect, perhaps even rubbing it in a little, just to distract Sara from everything else going on.

As expected, the blond huffs out an annoyed “no” before an infamous Agent Sharpe eyebrow raise calls her out on her bull shit “ok, yes.” 

It’s not two seconds later before the other woman shows up. Sara knows that Ava knows what’s really going on with her. And Ava knows that Sara knows she knows. But it’s a delicate and practiced dance between the two, and they’d both be damned if it was addressed now. There was work to do after all. 

So hours later, when they are back to arguing, for real, about the viability of this operation, things get more than a little heated. Sara is exhausted and more emotional than Ava had ever seen her. Ava is worried and being pulled in a thousand directions, and just plain thinks that this is a stupid plan. “We have lost scores of agents.”

“So what, what does that mean?” Sara throws her hands up in frustration as the two argue in her office. Spinning to face the agent with more unhinged anger than is really warranted at Ava’s perfectly rational qualms. “You’re just going to throw in the towel?” _ Because that’s bullshit! _

The Legends don’t quit when all odds are against them. Not now. Not ever. Sara would make sure of that. They didn’t get to do that. They were the world’s last defense. More than that. They were the fabric of reality’s last defense, as scary as that was. 

“We really can’t afford to lose anyone else,” Ava says with regret. She hadn’t lost close friends, but each loss hit the Bearou hard. There wasn’t a lot of people they could keep bringing in. She’d also be lying if she didn’t admit that though she wasn’t close with any of the fallen agents, they were technically her subordinates, and that made her feel complicit in each of their deaths. It was a heavy weight to bear, even for Ava.    
  
“And I can?” The hurt in Sara’s voice rips through the room immediately, making Ava regret her words. That wasn’t what she meant. Not at all. But it was still a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Neither team could afford that, granted for very different reasons, but it was still true. And even further, the implication that Legends were expendable was such complete and utter bullshit... Except maybe it wasn’t. Sara did remember Rip telling them that none of them mattered to the timeline. 

“No-”  _ That’s not what I meant. _

“Do you have any idea how hard this has been on us?” And as the tears came into the reformed assassin's eyes, Ava knows that  _ us _ is not who Sara is talking about.  _ Her _ . This has been so hard on  _ her _ . She’d had to keep everyone focused, as focused as legends get, and keep them moving forward. 

It had taken a toll on the Captain that she hadn’t really anticipated. This leadership thing was tough. She kind of liked that part of the league. She worried about herself. The job. That was about it. Now. Now she was in charge of this bunch and their wellbeing, and pretty much everything else, herself included, came after that. 

“I really am sorry Sara, Director Bennett has ordered me to return to the Time Bureau.”

“Screw his orders. I need you here.” Sara knows she isn’t just talking about the mission. She doesn’t know if it means for Ava to be here to help her or if she needs Ava here to do the mission. Deep, deep, down she knows that she is basically admitting that she, on some level, needs Ava. Something about the understanding the other blonde offers, but she wasn’t anywhere near a place where she could really start to explore that. 

“Look, I know Dark is personal for you, and you’re the last person to back out of a fight, but you asked me to give you an outside perspective. If you’re concerned for your team's safety, you should leave Finland. This is not a fight the Legends can win.” 

So as the agent starts to leave - to follow her stupid fucking order - the words just slip from Sara’s lips before she can even process them in her head. “After losing Stein, I can’t lose anyone else.” And all that  _ bitch _ has to say about that is that she’s sorry. In general, Sara had a thing against using that word, but she hadn’t figured out quite an apt replacement for it yet. 

Anyway… What Sara didn’t know is that Ava was sorry for all the things. Not just her having to leave. She was sorry for all of it. She just didn’t see another way. Not right now. 

Not till Sara was sucked into some weird demon portal. Screw orders. People needed her help. They needed her help to help everyone else. She wasn’t going to just turn her back on them. The legends. This hand nothing to do with one Sara Lance. “You came back.”

“It’s like you said. You needed me.”  _ Ahhh, screw it _ . She came back for Sara. She needed someone. Sara was breaking. She was doing her best, but she was in dire need of some relief. Someone who got it. Someone she wasn’t in charge of. Sure, the Legends were her family, but they were also her responsibility. Ava was different. 

It meant the world to Sara that the agent had come back. But now that she was gone again, the mission was over.  _ Thank Bebo, for that _ . Sara was finally alone. The team was sleeping off the mission or enjoying the time off the ship she’d insisted on so they could all now process their grief a little more fully. And so could she. Alone. On  _ her  _ ship. 

She hadn’t really meant it when she told Oliver that she’d cry at the funeral. She couldn’t. Not in front of everyone. It wasn’t anything as stupid as not wanting to look vulnerable in front of her team. Sure, that was part of it, but this one was on her. She didn’t get the luxury of falling apart. She had to be the backbone for the team. The constant. The example of strength for them. For Clarissa. For Lilly. She had to be there and give them enough comfort and support so that they could grieve. They needed that. They deserved that. 

It was on her, and she didn’t get to need their comfort. No. She got to give it. She got to give a purpose behind the grief and then turn this… this tragedy… this loss of a brother, father, friend into something positive. She got to take this off of Jax’s shoulders. It had to be her. She’s the captain. 

And then there was “DirectorSharpe’s call not a few days later. And when Sara told Ava that the team was taking it hard, that they are off their game, she really meant that she was taking it hard. That she was off  _ her  _ game. That this was on her, and she doesn’t get to fall apart for that, but she feels it happening anyway. So she pushed it down. She pushed it deep down into one of those many boxes. 

But now that the Bebo problem was taken care of and the team was nowhere to be found, and Sara had a couple more fingers of scotch than she probably should have, knowing her true emotional state no matter how deep she thought she had pushed it, it hits her. 

She had Gideon fabricate a photo of the professor and placed it across the table from her spot in the study in front of an empty chair. A steaming cup of earl grey with a splash of brandy-- just like the professor liked it. And a photo of the smiling man. 

And Sara had left it until she fell asleep drinking and chatting with the man who was as much a mentor to her as he had been a friend. That old man wisdom he had despite being one of her legends. That lovely band of idiots. 

If Sara would have been awake, she would have jumped at the tell-tale buzz of a time portal being opened, but she wasn’t. Ava walked through to find a Captain Lance asleep with a loose grip around a half-full glass sitting across from a still full teacup, and Ava, bless her soul, had the wherewithal to surmise that Sara had left it for the professor. If the photo was any indication. So the agent pours the cup out and sets it on a shelf in the study, and carefully places the photo next to it. Not wanting to wake the sleeping captain, she and the Legend’s leader weren't there. 

Not yet. 

**4\. Rip Hunter**

“It’s alright, Sara. I should very much like to see my wife and son again. I will miss you, Captain Lance, you and the rest of the legends. My one hope is that you all live up to that name.” Sara watched as the man looked up at her from his chosen final position. His eyes shone with pride. He had accepted what was about to happen. Sara didn’t want to, but she knew the feeling. She’d die for this team too. “Goodbye.” 

When Sara has to find it in herself to mutter “Goodbye Captain” one last time, the words nearly get stuck in her throat.  _ Damn it _ . Damn it, why can’t the universe just stop taking things from her. Sure, Rip, and her had their ups and downs, but he was still family. He’d always be family. 

Back in the pub where they were scheming, Ava had made a point to get the Captain alone. Outwardly Sara looked like she was doing fine. She was using Rip’s sacrifice to fuel their final charge. Their last chance with this time demon. At least it looked like it. But Ava watched Sara’s breath hitch and could see the pain behind her bright blue eyes. She always could.

“Sara.” She says softly after Sara had just given a speech vowing to make Rip proud, to make his sacrifice matter. Her hand catching the captain's forearm as it swung just before she would be moving to walk away. Everyone else had left the main room to do whatever Legends do before a mission. 

“I’ll cry at the funeral.” And Sara kicked herself because that response was a dead give away of what she was thinking about. She knew Ava could pick up on it, and she really couldn’t deal with that right now. Hell, there probably wouldn’t even be a funeral.

“Sara. No.” She grips a little harder, not letting Sara pull away instead turning the captain to face her a little more. Ava has to fight every instinct she has to cup that precious face and run her thumbs on those freckled cheekbones not yet damp with tears. And Ava didn’t really know if she got to do this anymore. She didn’t know what she and Sara were at this point, but someone had to. 

“I can't… Not now, Ava. I can’t. I won't let this be in vain, and if I process this now, it will be.” Sara doesn’t pull away so much as let her arms fall to her side with a defeated,  _ busted _ sigh. “Let it go.” Ava did. She got it. They had to do this. Screw healthy coping, healthy processing because what did that matter if there wasn’t a world left to be in.

So when all was said and done, Ava wakes up to an empty bed - o _ ne positive _ , she thought, she knew where she and Sara stood finally. She sides on a pair of shoes and hugs a loose cardigan around herself, shuffling her way to the study to find Sara, yet again holding a glass of scotch to her lips. Across the table, an untouched drink glimmers in the dim lights. This time instead of a photo, it’s a hologram provided by Gideon. Somehow a photo didn’t seem right.

Ava watched from the doorway as Sara, her Sara, took slow drinks from the crystal tumbler. Silent for a while before she pours herself two more fingers, more like four if Ava had any observations on Sara’s drinking habits. If Ava could read Sara’s mind, she would hear her thoughts about their complicated relationship. “I hated you at first—you stubborn ass who tried to keep us in line. Then somehow, you turned into a mentor, a friend, an older brother. Then you betrayed us again and again, and that hurt, but still, I know you meant well. You killed me. And yeah, that sucked, but I got over it. How could I not? You believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself. You really were a brother, Rip.” ” 

“ _ God, _ ” Sara scoffs incredesiouly “you were an ass, but you were our ass. Rest easy, Captain.” she knocks the glass back and wipes at her eyes as the hologram fades. The thud of crystal being placed on wood echoes for a second before Sara starts tracing the bottom of the glass around on the table, the crystal sliding easily over the polished wood. Apparently deciding she needed more, she abruptly leans forward again to fill the cup. 

All Sara wanted was to drink herself into a coma tonight. Because with Laurel, Lenard, Martin, and now Rip gone all at least a little bit because of Damian Dark… Sara found herself just a little bit sad for the man. He had come around in the end. He had done the right thing on behalf of his daughter. Sara found sympathy for the family that had torn her’s apart. And she  _ hates  _ herself for it. It makes her absolutely sick. On second thought, maybe that was all the alcohol. Sara really couldn’t find it in her to care. 

Ava paces across the study to rest her hand on Sara’s wrist before it can pick up the half-empty decanter. “Sara.” When the other woman turns to look at her, cheeks damp with tears, eyes red but also seemingly more blue than she had ever seen them. 

“I... “ The woman before her stutters moving to wipe her face with the back of her wrist before Ava stops it with another gentle hand. 

“No, Sara. It’s ok. It’s ok.” She pulls her into her chest and just holds the grieving captain. There isn’t sobbing. Not this time. But Sara let the tears fall as it hit her. They’d lost Rip once before, but this time… this time it was for good. And no matter how much he had hurt her with the comments on her incompetence, he’d always be the one who started her on this path who’d given her everything she’d never knew she needed... Everything she never thought she could possibly deserve... She still didn’t... but here Ava was, holding her to her chest as Sara let the silent tears run down her face. 

When Sara finally leans back from her embrace, Ava wipes her tears with her thumb before tucking one of those blonde pieces of bangs behind her ear. She really loved doing that. It’s as if the hair fell loose like that just for her. “His drink, I don’t…” 

“I’ve got it.” She stands and disappears for a brief moment leaving Sara to cross her arms on the table to make a pillow. The captain unable to literally “hold her head up” any longer. One more of her team was gone, and there wasn’t even a body to bury. She guessed it was just as well that way. Rip being lost to time, or however that had worked when the time core melted down, only seemed fitting. 

When Ava returned, it was a frame, matching the one that held Martin’s, with a picture of Rip with his arms around what Ava knew to be his wife and son Jonah. She’d never heard him talk about them much, but it seemed fitting. She placed the photo next to Martin’s on the shelf and put the now sealed crystal filled with a generous pour of scotch off to the side in front of it. 

Sara looks up to see Ava adjusting the new frame and drink on the shelf when it dawns on her how exactly the professor’s teacup and photo came to find their home with a perfect view from Sara’s desk. “You…It was you? I… thank you.” 

“Come on, let’s go back to bed.” 

“Ava. I…” 

“I’ve got you. Sara, I’ve got you.” And with that, she feels the damp shirt against her collarbone from the tears still leaking from her precious Sara’s eyes. Pressing soft kisses to her temple and whispering sweet comforts until she feels the Captain fall into sleep against her. 

**5\. Quentin Lance**

When Sara got the call that her dad had been shot and was in the hospital, she couldn’t even remember how she initially reacted. He was fine. Well, he was relatively fine. He was expected to make it through with really high certainty. 

There was no rush for her to get there. She could finish the legends current situation before leaving, and she was a time traveler damn it. It wasn’t a huge deal. Yes, her dad was shot, but he was fine. Getting shot tended to happen in their, his, line of work. It’s not like he was the first Lance with some bullet holes. Hell, those weren’t even his first bullet holes. Of course, Sara was fine. 

Sure it had been unnerving to get a call from Laurel of all people telling her what went down, but she was fine. Everything was fine. 

When she could, finally, getaway and portal into the supply closet at Star City General, she had given Ava a quick kiss, telling her to stay, that everything was fine, her dad was ok, but it really had been so long since she’d visited her family… well her other family. What was left of her other family? Her dad. She had said, “Ok, babe. Let me know how it goes. I love you.” 

Ava didn't feel even a little bad about Sara wanting to go alone. She had work to do, and Sara could tell Quentin about them when he was recovering. She knew she would probably meet this man that her Sara absolutely idolized sooner rather than later anyway. Sara was sure he was going to be fine. She wasn’t upset really or anything; it just seemed like another day with an excuse to sneak away and visit. 

But as Sara made her way down the hallway to the group of “New-Old team arrow,” she didn’t even register that something was very wrong. And then the doctor came out and was all sad eyes and apologies, and all Sara had was shock. 

Shock.

Shock, then horror. 

Then grief. 

“Ollie,” she said as she saw her friend in handcuffs. That bitch FBI agent wouldn’t even let her hug him. Sara needed him right then like she hadn’t for a long time. They were the only two left—the only two left from  _ before _ . 

But when Felicity pulled her into her arms, Sara lost it. There would be crying at the funeral. There would be a lot of crying right now too. He was gone. 

Her dad. 

Daddy.

Quentin Lance. 

Dead. 

Laurel, not  _ Laurel, _ walked with her into his room, and Sara honestly couldn’t tell if her being there made it better or worse or what. Finally, as they talked, she decided that nothing outside of what was going on would make this better. Her dad was dead. And how could it make it worse? Her dad was dead. 

She went radio silent with the team, with Ava, for two days. Sara didn’t remember any of it. It was a blur. She helped make decisions for his funeral. She knew exactly how he wanted it. Her mom and dad had that conversation with her and Laurel when they were pretty young. Just in case, you know. Sara wanted to laugh at the memory. She cried instead. 

Her father’s tombstone would be next to hers. Right next to  _ her’s. _ Laurel’s. Like some sort of timeline. Sara’s. Laurel’s. Quinton’s. Except Sara’s was empty. 

Again, she found herself, just a moment, wishing she was still down there so she could be with them. At least Laurel had some company now. 

It’s just that now.. now Sara was alone. 

Sara didn’t get to stay for the funeral. And honestly, she was grateful. She got a call from Ava. Well, Felicity got a call from Ava, but she quickly passed the phone over to Sara. “Hey babe, how are things? Is your dad ok?” 

Sara didn’t have the heart to tell her. She didn’t have the heart to say it out loud yet. “Hey, what's going on? Is there a fugitive?” 

“Yes. Yeah, it’s in-.” 

“Ok.” Sara, honest to god, is  _ relieved _ she didn’t think she could handle standing there in front of HER grave. Her father’s and her sister’s graves. Not alone. Not now. It was never supposed to be like this. “I’ll say goodbye and be to the ship soon.” 

“Sara -” Ava doesn’t even get a chance to ask what’s wrong. Sara has already hung up. She steps back into the room where Felicity is waiting patiently with the phone outstretched to her friend in a silent thank you. 

“I have to go.” 

Her old friend gives her a sad smile. “Ok.” And instead of pushing in that Felicity way of hers, instead of demanding that Sara stay, that they needed her there. She let it go. She’d never,  _ never _ , seen Sara so defeated. So if Sara needed to go, she needed to go. Instead of that firey Smoke scold when they hug goodbye, the portal waiting and open for Sara to step through, Felicity whispers with a squeeze, “I’m going to kill him. I promise he will pay.” 

Sara doesn’t know why she doesn’t tell Felicity not to, that killing Diaz wasn’t her responsibility. She just nods and steps through. Her feet going from the tile of Oliver and Felicity’s kitchen to the metal of her ship. 

“Hey, Ava.” Sara basically croaks as she walks to the control center. “What do we got?” 

She doesn’t even bother telling herself to pull it together. She just needs a second, and she’ll slip right back into her league training. Any second now. 

“Hey, babe. Nothing major, just a -” Ava smiles as she turns to face her girlfriend. Once she sees Sara, her face falls immediately. She’s an absolute wreck. “Sara, what is it? How’s your dad?” 

Those soft eyes and Ava’s hand rising slowly to cup her cheek snap Sara out of her misery and back to her training.  _ Thank god, about time.  _ Sara offers a small smile before walking up to the bridge's control console. “We can talk about it after we find this fugitive.” 

“Sara, no.” Ava’s arm is on her upper forearm, grabbing it to turn her assassin girlfriend to face her gently. She puts both her hands, so they frame Sara’s arms, her thumbs tracing where her arm meets her shoulder over Sara’s black sweater.  _ Well,  _ she thought bitterly, _ at least I’m dressed for the occasion. _ “Talk to me.” 

“He’s..” Sara has to look away from Ava a second.  _ Remember you training Taer Al Safar _ . She takes a deep breath, her face going cold. Her whole body going cold. “He’s dead.” She looks back at Ava, watching her girlfriend's heartbreak for her, but it’s no use. Sara’s already stuffed it down. Cold. Cold Cold. “Now, can we please just get this fugitive?” 

“When’s the funeral? Did you get to go? Do you want to go?” 

“Tomorrow.” Sara huffs. “ _ Now, _ can we please just fucking get this fugitive?” And there stood Ava Sharpe, unmoved - completely unmoved - by Sara’s hardness. She knew her better than that, and Sara finds herself hating Ava a little for it. 

“If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. That’s your decision, babe, but the team can handle this one. You can go. You can be there for that if you want to.  _ We  _ can be there for that if you want that too. It’s all up to you, ok? But none of this “I’ll deal with it later” bullshit. Ok? You do that enough. Sara, do what you need to do, for you, for once. Don’t run. Don’t use this as an excuse to run. The team can handle it.” 

“Are you actually trusting the Legends to do something without supervision?” Sara tries her best to give Ava that smirk she knows the other blonde loves so much.  _ No dice.  _

“Don’t,” Ava whispers, her hands rubbing up and down once on Sara’s upper arms as she drops her head forward to rest against Sara’s forehead. “Sara, don’t.”  _ Don’t hide behind this. Don’t run. _

Ava watches as tears spill over Sara’s eyelashes and down her cheeks. She feels the slow shake of “no” as Sara moves her head against Ava’s forehead. Sara doesn’t even know what to say. She doesn’t know what she even wants. When Ava pulls her into a hug, though, Sara buries her nose in the crook of Ava’s neck and holds on to her for dear life. Or her third life. Maybe her fourth. She’d really lost count at this point. 

The two hear footsteps as one of the Legends approaches the bridge. Luckily, Sara thinks she was out of tears and didn’t have red cheeks to hide. She just releases Ava and takes a step back to look back at the report Gideon had uploaded for them. 

“Hey, how’s your dad?” Zari asks as she finishes off the last bite of her powdered donut. 

What little softness Sara had just had with Ava was gone. She felt cold again. “Dead.”

“Oh, Sara…” 

“Leave it, Z. I’m fine.” The hacker glances at Ava, who just shakes her head, looking more heartbroken than Zari had ever seen her. The director silently pleading to Zari to let her handle it, to just let Sara be for a minute.

Zari relents with a small nod to Ava before patting Sara on the shoulder and heading out. “Sure. Whatever you say, Captain.” Her friend muttered sarcastically, not believing Sara for a second but also very aware of the clenched fists at her side, just daring Zari to challenge her. “Let me know if you need anything, ok?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What do we got, Cap?” Nate mozzies on up to the bridge a moment later, running a hand through his bed head. 

“Fugitive.” Sara basically grunts before taking a deep breath and briefing the team prior to their mission. Knowing, perhaps better than anyone, that she was not in the right mind to be leading a mission or even anywhere close to the field, she sends out the Legends without her. All shooting worried glances at the Captain when she stays behind. 

“Go guys, it’s fine. I’m just gotta take care of some things in Star City for my dad.” 

“Oh, yeah. Sure thing.” Nate smiles at her. “Tell Papa Lance I said hey.” 

  
Sara doesn’t have it in her to tell the whole team yet. “Yeah,” she smiles, “I will. Thanks. Don’t fuck this up, guys.” If Zari hadn’t known that the man was dead, she would have bought it completely. It was quite frightening, actually, for Zari and Ava both. 

Once they’re gone, Sara turns back to Ava but cuts off the taller blonde before she can say anything. “Ava, I know I would be too dangerous in the field. Just give me a minute to shower. I’ll meet you in the study. If you can stay, I mean.” Sara didn’t want to hold Ava up, especially not on her account... 

“I’ll be here.” 

“Can you monitor coms, please, while I’m gone?” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” She says, pressing her lips to the top of Sara’s head as she makes her way to her room. 

Once she’s there, Sara falls into her bed wanting nothing but to sleep, and sleep she does until she’s woken by Gideon about an hour later. “Captain, you are needed on the bridge.” 

“Ok, thanks, Gideon.” She runs her hands over her face to find them stiff with tear tracks she didn’t remember making. It’s harder for her to take a long deep breath than it should be, but here she was. Needed on the bridge. Some things never change. 

“Hey, babe. How was your shower - you didn’t shower.” Ava quickly amends as she turns toward Sara. 

“I took a nap instead.” Sara yawns, rubbing her eyes. Sure she had slept, but she only felt more exhausted. God, her chest hurt. “What’s up?” 

“Oh, if I’d have known that, I would have let you sleep. I’m sor-”

“No, it’s ok. What’s going on? Who screwed it up this time?” 

“Actually, it’s going relatively well. They had some questions, and I handled them. I um... I told Gideon to get you. I just talked to Felicity.” Sara can’t help but raise her eyebrow in question at Ava. She didn’t know the tech genius. At all. “She called to update you. I answered and told her that you were in the shower. Babe… I really think you should go.” 

And yeah, she probably should. It was the decent thing to do, after all, she guessed. Sara really didn’t know if there was a playbook for this one. But she knew she’d always wonder if she should have gone, so for once, she decides to just listen to Ava. So she concedes without a fight or without any words at all, just a little head nod and a half-smile that absolutely shatters Ava’s heart if the shift in her eyes had anything to say about it. 

The funeral came and went. Sara didn’t remember any of it. It was a blur. Bagpipes. All the traditional cop stuff. Her father’s tombstone right there next to hers. Laurel’s.

Sara’s. Laurel’s. Quinton’s. Except. Except Sara’s was empty. 

And all Sara could think about was that same damn thing. Hers. Laurel’s. Dad’s. And the only one of them that should actually be dead was still there. Still fucking breathing. Even after everything. 

Again she found herself, just a moment, wishing she was still down there so she could be with them. At least Laurel had some company now. And yeah, she’d already thought that too, but who gave a fuck. Neither one of them should be there.

But now Sara was alone, and honestly, Sara didn’t even know if her mother was even there. Did her mother even know? Did she want to? Probably not. If she did, she probably wouldn’t believe it anyway. “Laurel” had come back; Sara had come back. Apparently, the Lances were allergic to death, or at least it didn’t seem to want to keep them around for very long. “Seem” being the operative word. It loved them. It loved them all right. All the Lances. The ones that mattered. Even Sara. So much that it wanted her to keep coming back, apparently. 

Eventually, after dealing with the cops he trusted and the families in this old pub, her dad liked before all the drinking got out of hand… They had him a party. They sang their cop songs and made their cop toasts, and Sara let them watching from the back. The other team arrow members somehow in the same bar as all these cops for just these few hours honoring one of their finest to ever be in uniform. 

Honestly, she had completely forgotten Ava was there until she slid into the booth Sara had occupied and pulled her into her chest, allowing Sara to lean completely on her. “I love you; you know that?” Ava murmured into the top of Sara’s head. “I love you so much.” 

And for whatever reason, all Sara could think to say back was, “He would have loved you, Aves. God, he would have loved you.” 

So five minutes later, when Sara was too exhausted to be there anymore, and Ava picked up on it, she opened a portal back to her apartment and wrapped Sara back up in her arms as they leaned against the headboard of their bed. “I should have been around more.” Sara mumbles with her cheek pressed into Ava’s collar bone. “I was such an idiot. I thought I had more time.” 

“You are not an idiot.” Sara opens her mouth to protest, but Ava taps her pointer finger on her nose to stop her. “You aren’t. You were busy saving the world. I know it’s not going to help much right now that you feel like you missed out on time with him, but I do know he was proud of you, and I know he understood.” 

“How can you possibly know that?” She lifts her head from its resting place on Ava’s shoulder just enough to look her in the eye. The question didn’t have any bite to it, which honestly bothered Ava more than if it would have. This just sounded broken. Broken and vulnerable. 

“I talked to Felicity.” 

“Oh,” Sara mumbles as she drops her head, defeated, back to its place. Allowing her arm to rest across Ava’s torso once more. 

“And I also know that you, Sara Lance, are the most amazing woman any man could possibly hope his daughter would become. You are certainly no idiot. He knew you loved him. I have no doubt about that. And I know he loved you with everything he had, Sara. How could he not? He might be gone now, and I don’t know what that is like, but I hope you know that I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Whatever you want. You got it. You got me. And we’re going to get through this together.” 

“Ava. I have nothing left. No one left.” 

The taller blonde just wraps her arm a little tighter around her favorite person in the world and touches her nose and lips to the top of her head. She didn’t take it personally. She knew Sara knew that she had her. She had the team. But blood was different. Any sense of anything normal that could have been left was gone now. Ava didn’t blame her at all. “I know you might feel empty right now, Babe.” And Sara did, she felt absolutely gutted… and she knew what that felt like… but Ava knew that too “I don’t have the words to make it better but just let me hold you. For as long as you need. The team is giving us a little while. Giving you a little while.” 

Ava feels Sara’s jaw come unhinged against her chest to protest, no doubt, “I know. I know that “kicking ass is how you heel,” but that’s total bullshit. I know you want to distract yourself with work but please, Sara. Let yourself take a second.” 

Again she feels the blonde shake her head against her shoulder before she answers with a small “I don’t want to. I don’t want this to be -” real. 

“I know. We will figure it out. But right now, just let me hold you. I’m here.” 

“For now.” 

If Ava’s heart hadn’t broken before, it sure as hell had just then, especially when the assassin curled even smaller into Ava’s embrace. “I love you. And I promise you this, I will always do my best to be here, and I will always, always love you.” 

Somehow in the last minute and a half, Sara had fallen asleep in her spot, curled tight into Ava’s side. She gives one last kiss to the top of Sara’s head. “Sleep, my love. I love you too much for words.” 


End file.
